


If You Only Knew

by harrylouiz



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Funny, Halloween, M/M, PINING LIKE CRAZY, POV Multiple, Pining, School, Undiscovered Photographer, University, University Student Harry, University Student Louis, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:45:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrylouiz/pseuds/harrylouiz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i></i>
  <br/>
  <i>"He had sat in the grass pressed up against a walnut tree, watching the clouds as daydreams crept into his thoughts, and he imagined him.His sunny smile, the way his head tipped back when he laughed, his kindness, yet, his sarcasm. And he knew that this would stay with him, would cling to him, for the rest of his life."</i>
  <br/>
</p><div class="center">
  <p>OR<br/></p>
</div><br/>Sarcastic Harry has started his first year at uni, where shy Louis dresses up like a frog in his spare time, Niall never sleeps, Liam throws incredible parties, Zayn never shows up to anything, and everyone has a ceiling fan.
            </blockquote>





	If You Only Knew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic will be hitting a bit close to home as it's based purely off a bit of self-experience. I hope you enjoy! It will be a long journey, I hoping to make this around 50k. Feel free to give me any and all feedback!  
> You can reach me at my tumblr- obligationz or ask for my email!
> 
> Thank you to all my wonderful betas: Sarah, Lucy, Lyndsey, Sam, Zoe, Becky, Talesha, Chloe-Ann, and Raegan. You all are incredible people and extremely helpful! This chapter's for you guys! (:

-

_there are three things that make me want you: the way your eyes twinkle when you smile, my longing for your fingers intertwined in mine, and the feeling of being wanted whenever i catch you staring at me. but these reasons are not enough because i am me and you are you and we cant change in a world of romeo and juliet_

-

-

**Harry**

Autumn had always been the most beautiful time of the year. The way the fiery red and orange leaves gathered at the trunk of every tree could convince anyone what true beauty looked like. It was no different this year. There was excitement in the air, as freshers were faced with their home for the next four years, and as returning students were reunited with their friends. There was a certain aura in the Autumn air; the feeling of newness, how the warm sun bathes you in it’s happiness for the last time that year, yet the chill of the wind as it hits you with a taste of the season to come.

Autumn was Harry’s favourite season to photograph. It’s the most photogenic of the four. Nature is at it’s downfall, and it’s easy to observe it with a click and flash of a camera.

He was already moved in. His mother had dropped him off for his first year the week before, and he had spent hours unpacking his knick-knacks and fixing his room to precision. His glass cat figurine collection had barely survived the trip down from Cheshire, between his mother’s persistent pleas of ‘Is that _really_ what you’re choosing to bring’ and ‘You don’t need _that_ much newspaper to protect them’. She was very resilient in her attempts to rid Harry of his oddity of a collection. Even though his mum had to be the queen of nagging and complaining, he was sure he’d miss her. He had never been apart from his mother for this long. He’d call her, that’s for sure, but today was last the day he’d see her until Christmas break. She was just beginning to feel the empty-nest syndrome, which Harry knew would be a problem as soon as his sister Gemma had left home three years prior.

Harry looked around his room. It wasn’t the best room he’d ever lived in, but it wasn’t anything to complain about. One bed stood against the west wall and a desk was pushed up against the windows. The big windows had a view of the park across the street, and displayed the orange trees and the leaves that had fallen at their trunks. The view was pretty spectacular at this time of year, and he was sure it would be just as beautiful once snow began to fall as well.

He wasn’t quite sure on what he was supposed to do. His mother had left, and he sat in the empty room surrounded by boxes but wasn’t in the mood to unpack. He lay on his mattress, which he had placed on the floor, and stared at the ceiling fan. He watched the white blades swirl around in continuous circles. This really was going to be the place where he’d be spending an entire year.

The endless rotation of the fan was monotonous enough to make Harry sleepy, and he closed his eyes and started to drift asleep to the sounds of the wind from the open window. Just as he had gotten comfortable, a loud ‘BANG’ jolted him from his doze and his eyes popped open.

“Hey, I’m Niall!” a loud voice boomed from the doorway, as the blond boy stood there with a multitude of baggage. His smile spread across his face. Harry felt drawn to him immediately. He reminded him of the warmness of home. But, he wasn’t too happy about being woken up.

“Hi Niall,” Harry said, “I’m trying to get some sleep.”

“Hi ‘Trying To Get Some Sleep’!” Niall said with a smirk. “Geez, what kind of name is that? Your parents must have seriously been looking for something unique.” Harry laughed and rolled his eyes.

“So, ‘Trying To Get Some Sleep’, I guess we’re roommates.” Niall said, setting down his bags on the unoccupied bed and taking his jacket off. He unzipped the first bag. Wrinkled clothes and random objects spilled out of the suitcases as soon he pulled down the zipper.

“I guess we are. And, it’s Harry by the way.”

Harry helped Niall unpack his stuff and afterwards they sat on the big brown couch and plugged in Niall’s Xbox.

After a while, Harry got up and made himself some instant soup and went to bed. It was a bit weird, not being in his familiar bed in his familiar room. He had already begun to miss home already. He just wanted to escape his homesickness, and Niall was making this a problem. The sounds of the game kept Harry up the entire night.

“Don’t you ever _sleep_?” Harry yelled. “It’s bloody four a.m. and classes start tomorrow.” Niall turned the game on pause and looked over at Harry.

“Sleep is for the weak! Xbox is life!” he responded excitedly, holding up the ‘rock on’ hand gesture, and unpausing the game. Harry put a pillow over his ears.

In the morning, Harry awoke to the smell of bacon frying on the small electric griddle he brought from home. He threw the pillow, which had spent the night on top of his head, on the floor and sat up.

“Finally.” Niall said. “You’re awake. I made breakfast. Got a big day today.” He flipped over a piece of bacon and put down the spatula. “My first class starts in two hours, and yours doesn’t start for three.”

“How do you know my schedule?” Harry questioned.

“I looked through your school stuff to find it.” He answered, shrugging his shoulders. “It wasn’t hard.” Harry narrowed his eyes.

“Why were you looking through my things?” he questioned. “There’s a thing called privacy, you know.” Niall waved him off.

“Yeah, sorry about that, won’t happen again. Didn’t want to wake you.” Harry rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom to take a shower.

It was nice to get some peace and quiet for once. He had a feeling Niall would be quite the roommate. After washing his hair and using the bar of soap, he pulled the handle left and turned the water off. He grabbed the towel he had brought in from the hall closet, and dried off. After this, he changed and finished getting dressed.

Once again, he felt the pang of being alone. He was dropped in this new place without a familiar face. He wasn’t particularly good at making friends, either. Niall was something, but not much. He was friendly, sure, but it seemed his happiness was the only emotion Harry’d be seeing. And sometimes he needed more than that. Plus, it’s practically an obligation to be friends with your dorm mate.

By this time Niall was gone, to who knows where, doing who knows what. Harry grabbed his laptop and backpack and headed for his first class.

Listed on the sheet was Photoshop in Photography in the south west building, so he locked up their room and started to walk. When he got there, he was ten minutes early, so he picked a seat towards the back of the lecture hall and opened up his laptop. He had a few pictures from home that he photographed before he left and he opened up photoshop to kill some time while finishing editing them. The class wouldn’t teach him much more, he thought. He already knew so much already.

People gathered into seats as it got closer to class time and soon after a young looking guy walked up to the podium and cleared his throat.

“Hello, my name is Tyler Walken, you can call me Professor Walken.” he looked around the room. “Welcome to the best class you’ll ever take.”

Professor Walken was a dark-skinned man with long, big dreadlocks and thick black framed glasses. His tan chinos clung to his legs and he had a grey cardigan over the top of a blue button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. There was a coffee cup from a local café on the podium, and his laptop had band and brand names plastered all over it. He was the most cliché hipster person Harry had ever seen, let alone for a teacher. It was surprising they’d let someone this young teach a university class as well. He looked like he was only a few years older than Harry.

The Professor gave the basics of the curriculum for the year and handed out a syllabus. Harry had always hated the first day of school for this reason. He hated the beginning of the year typical speech of ‘You can make this year what you want it to be!’. Unlike his expectations though, Professor Walken stepped over to his computer and opened up a Powerpoint on the giant projector in the center of the stage.

“Here are four paintings.” he said, clicking to the first slide. “I’d like everyone to describe these paintings with four adjectives on a piece of paper, then pass your papers to the right.”

Harry looked at the paintings. The first one was a disaster. It was obviously painted by a young child, with colours messily smeared with fingers across the page. The first word to come to mind was childish. He scrawled the word on his paper.

The next slide was a still life painting of three apples in a bowl, and was actually pretty good, but was made most likely by a teenager. It looked like it would hang in someone’s nice dining room. He wrote down sophisticated. The third painting was a modern drawing of the Eiffel Tower and looked like someone created it to sell it. Harry thought it was pretty creative for a cliché painting of the Eiffel tower, so he jotted that down.

The last slide was a picture of the Mona Lisa. The painting was in it’s full glory, with high definition highlighting every detail. The work was a masterpiece, and he wrote down exquisite.

They passed their papers in and Walken walked around to collect them. He paged through them for a few seconds, and then put a paperclip on them and put the stack in a folder. He turned back to the class.

“These four adjectives will be how I will be grading your papers this year. I will just describe your work the same way you described those paintings. I don’t believe in the grading scale, but that’s just me.” He smiled and reached his hands out to crack his knuckles. “Now onto the lesson.”

After class, Harry went back to his dorm. Niall was still gone, off doing whatever he was doing this morning. Probably sleeping after being up all night. He put some soup on the stove, laid on the couch, and opened up some random foreign movie on Netflix.

Not far into the movie, he heard the ding from the timer, and got up to eat his soup. After eating and washing his bowl, Harry checked the clock. He still had an hour to kill before class. The movie was really boring at second thought, so he grabbed his stuff and locked up the dorm to go explore the downtown. He would have all year to sit in his dorm and just watch movies, anyways.

He walked a few blocks before coming to a main intersection of stores and restaurants. All of the walking had made him kind of hungry, even though he had pretty much just eaten. He was glad he had a fast metabolism. He strolled into a frozen yoghurt shop, the kind of one where you get your own yoghurt and toppings and they weigh it. The bell on the top of the door jangled when he opened it.

He walked over to the machines. There were so many different flavours, it was hard to choose just one. He liked banana and had always gotten that, but cake batter was quite possibly the best thing ever invented. He stood between the two flavours for a while, not able to make a decision between the two.

“You know, you can get both flavours if you put them in the same bowl on opposite sides.” a voice declared behind him. He spun around.

The voice belonged to a boy who worked there, with wavy cedar-brunette hair and deep aegean blue eyes. He smiled, and his eyes squinted together. He wasn’t Harry’s type, but he was very attractive. He was way out of his league, anyways. He looked a lot older.

“Actually,” Harry said, “I think I’m going to go with the cake batter. I’m in the mood for something sweet.”

He gave a cheeky smile back and walked over to the toppings area, as the boy returned to the back of the store. He got strawberries and raspberries and strewed them across his bowl. He shuffled to the till, but the boy was still in the back. He rang the bell on the counter, but still no one came to ring him up. He sat down at one of the green tables and waited.

“Sorry, sorry, I had to do something really quick and then I got caught up.” the boy said running from the back room in a hurry. “The yoghurt’s on the house. Sorry, I suck at this job.”

“No problem,” Harry laughed, “but what the hell are you wearing?”

The boy had on a giant frog costume, with green scales cascading down from his green webbed hands to his green webbed toes. His face turned red.

“I’m a frog.” he said, looking down at the floor smiling. “Well, not literally, it’s a costume. To promote the shop.” He raised up his giant green hand and waved. Harry squinted his eyes at the lad and snickered.

“I obviously didn’t actually think you were a frog.” Again, the boy just looked down at his shoes, face redding by the minute.

“I have a later shift where I have to wear this, just thought I’d try it on now before this shift ends. Don’t give me such a hard time, it’s a pretty realistic costume, wouldn’t you say?”

Harry looked at the boy and laughed.

“Maybe if you’re about seven. And you’re standing from fifteen meters away. And you’re blind.” The boy stepped back behind the counter and sat on the stool. “Trust me, you look nothing like a frog.” The lad smiled and showed off his brilliant smile.

“Well, I guess you’re right. I mean, these scales are made of felt.” he said looking down at the costume.

“That’s not what I meant, but I’m glad you’ve seen the light.” Harry said as he finished his yoghurt and stood up from the table. He gave a quick salute and hurled the empty container in the trash. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Thanks for the free yoghurt.”, he said, opening the door and smiling, stepping out into the bright sunlight.

When he got to his final class for the day, he was running a bit late. Students were filing in from the glass doors and were taking their seats in the big lecture hall. Harry took a seat on the left side towards the middle. When the clock hit 1:30, the professor walked up to the lecture podium and cleared his throat.

“I’m Professor Cowell, I will be your instructor for this year. Creative writing is fun. It will be a fun year.” He read from the paper in his hands in a very monotone voice. “Please pick up your things and make your way to the front of the room. I will be assigning seats. I find it stimulates creativity to be in a foreign environment.”

Harry was distraught. Assigned _seats_? In _university_? But, he picked up his bag and his laptop and walked to the stage.

The professor read off names and students slowly walked to their designated seat. When he got to ‘S’, Harry started listening. As soon as he said ‘ _Styles_ ’, Harry walked over to the desk on the right in the back of the room. As soon as he sat down, a boy with tan blond hair walked up with a confused look in his eye.

“I think you’re in my seat.” he said, pointing to the chair. Harry looked back at the boy.

“No, I’m pretty sure this is my seat. He said my last name, and pointed to the desk.”

“Well, actually, I’m quite certain he said _my_ last name.” the boy retaliated. “Professor, please tell him that he’s in my seat.” Professor Cowell looked down at the seating chart and laughed.

“Well, it looks like we’ve got brothers!” he said. “Harry, take the seat to your left. Leo, take Harry’s seat.” Harry looked at the boy, and realising he had nothing to lose, since he had already lost his seat, stuck out his hand.

“Harry. Harry Styles. Not your brother.” The boy laughed and reached out his hand as well.

“I’m Leo Styles. We are not related.” They shook hands, and sat in their respective seats and opened up their laptops. The professor started his instructions and handed out his syllabus for the year, making Harry drift off into boredom.

A bright light woke him from his daydreams, as the lecture hall door was opened up and a figure stepped into the room from the sunlight.

Professor Cowell stopped his lesson and turned toward the interruptance.

“Ah, Mr…?” he questioned.

“Tomlinson. Sorry I’m late.” the figure finished as he closed the door to the room, bringing the atmosphere in the room back to a boring old lecture. The professor looked through his notes.

“Tomlinson comma Louis?” he asked.

“That’s me.” Louis declared, walking from the top of the stairs down towards the stage. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and he skipped a step every so often as he walked.

“Why don’t you take a seat next to Leo Styles, right over there.” Cowell said, pointing over to Harry’s row. When Louis approached the row, Harry finally got a good glimpse of his face, and was a bit surprised. He was the same boy from the frozen yoghurt shop earlier. Harry didn’t know what to feel about this.

“Hey, you.” Louis whispered, bopping Harry’s head as he walked through the aisle.

“Frog boy.” Harry whispered back, narrowing his eyes. Leo sighed.

“Great. I’m stuck between the two lovebirds all term.” he muttered, putting his head down against the desk.

**  
**  
  
  
  
  


**Louis**

He couldn’t believe his last year of uni had finally come. He’d had years of preparation for this.  Test after test and hour after hour of studying, everything was almost about to pay off. He just had to hold on for two more terms.

His last year of university was just beginning, making everything his last. He had his last day of summer, his last first day of school, his last move-in day, his last back-to-classes speeches. Everything was the beginning of the end. Surprisingly, though, his first two weeks of classes had actually been better than he’d expected.

He’d met Harry, the first year who aimed at a photography degree, who was every bit of sarcastic that Louis needed. They talked a lot in Creative Writing, their only shared class. It was a little weird being friends with a first year, their lifestyles and outlooks on university were just so different. To Harry, everything was new and exciting, just beginning. Louis, on the other hand, felt the crushing pressure of everything coming to an end. Louis didn’t feel like a senior, he just felt like a fresher who never quite realised how fast time really passes.

“Zayn, wake up. Class starts in like, ten minutes.” Louis said, smacking Zayn with a pillow and pounding on the bed in a continuous rhythm.

“Why do I even have to go to class? I want to _die_.” he mumbled through the duvet, and rolled over.

“Oh shut up, wanker, it’s only the second week of classes. And it’s like two p.m. Suck it up.” Louis said, throwing another pillow. Zayn never went to class. But, it’s not like he had to. He was easily in the top fifty students of the university, and he didn’t even try. He was practically a genius in English, which is what he was getting a degree for. Zayn was _goals_.

But, Louis got ready for the day, locked the dorm room door behind him with Zayn still inside, and walked to his Creative Writing lecture. The sun was bright, for mid September, and Louis had to squint to see where he was going. So, when he ran into Leo, it wasn’t that surprising. Louis had been friends with Leo ever since their first and second years. Their hijinks had left the school without any napkins for a week one time, actually. Their friendship had just grown since then, but it wasn’t like his closeness with Zayn. It was a quiet friendship, one where you can go a few weeks without speaking and still have lots to talk about.

“Leeeeeeeeeeeooooooo!” Louis yelled happily at him, drawing out each syllable slowly.

“Looouiiiiiissssssssssss!” Leo yelled back with a mimicked tone of voice. “How’s senior year going? How was your summer? How’s cross country?” he asked.

Cross country was something Louis had been doing for a while now, ever since he started secondary school. It was a bit of a stress reliever some days. He was pretty good at the long distances races, so it was kind of a win-win between him and the school. In fact, it was the entire reason Louis was attending, because of his scholarship.

“Cross country’s going great. Got a meet this weekend.” Louis answered, holding his hand up as a visor to the blinding sunshine in his eyes.

“That’s good,” Leo said, “so anyways, what’s your deal with that Harry kid? The frog boy?” Louis looked at him and shook his head.

“No, no, _he_ ’s not frog boy, _I_ am.” Louis responded. “And it’s a weird story. One for a different day.”

“Oooh, you guys already have an inside joke. Just send me the wedding invitation already.” Leo said, making kissy faces at Louis. Louis slapped his head.

“Piss off. It’s not that big of a deal. He’s cute. He’s a _firsty_. Not much I can do about that.” Louis said.

“Alright, fine. Whatever.” Leo said, and they continued the next few blocks of walking to class in silence.

When Louis got home, after an uneventful lecture, there was something unusual to greet him. A shiny silver envelope laid on the sleek counter and a plain old envelope lay underneath it. The silver one had a fancy crest on the front and the words ‘Zayn Malik’ written elegantly in big black cursive letters. However, the one underneath it had ‘Louis Tomlinson’ written basically in pencil.

Louis grabbed the envelope with his name on it and tore open the paper, ripping the top fold. He had never quite figured out how to properly open an envelope. Inside the letter was a piece of the university’s ruled notebook paper neatly folded up into quarters. He carefully unfolded it and read the writing on it.

‘ _West wing. Floor 7. September 27th. 11pm_.’ So it was a party, he guessed. The mysteriousness of the letter made Louis a bit weary. It was probably a party, at least he hoped it was. It was his final year after all, he was relying on parties to make his last year in school memorable. Or not, depending on how much alcohol he was going to consume.

Louis re-read the invitation, catching something he hadn’t caught the first time. Underneath the print was tiny messily written handwriting scrawled in as what looked like an afterthought.

‘ _louis just know i am not inviting you because we are friends we are not friends your only invited because you and harry are mates i actually kind of hate you_ ’

“Um,” Louis said aloud, even though the dorm was empty, “what?” The letter confused him not only because he had no idea who it was from, but because he didn’t know of anyone who even mildly disliked him. That was his thing, people _liked_ him. Not to sound cocky or anything, but it was kind of true. Well, he thought it was, at least.

He supposed he would go to this party, that he kind of was, but kind of wasn’t invited to, and see who in the hell had sent him the letter.

When Zayn came home, Louis practically jumped him to open the letter, because he really wanted to see more details about the party. He also didn’t believe in opening other people’s post, even if it’s your best friend’s. Zayn slid the paper out of the envelope. Decorative gold paper shone and ornate letters proclaimed roughly the same message as Louis’s letter, but in a prettier way. The detail that was on Zayn’s card, which was not on Louis’, was that the party was hosted by none other than Liam Payne. It was also written that it was a back-to-school party, and to plan on getting very, very, drunk.

Louis went to sleep that night, trying to think of what he ever did to Liam Payne, and why Liam had even invited Louis. How did Liam know that he knew Harry? Nothing made sense. It started to rain, which made the air even more humid and even hotter than it had been before, so Louis turned on the ceiling fan and opened the window. He fell asleep staring at the continuous motion of the blades, and thinking of the confusing, new-to-him, beautiful Harry Styles.

The next day was the day of Liam’s party. Louis got out of bed and unsuccessfully tried to wake Zayn up. He grabbed a Cliff granola bar, his running shoes and headphones, and made a playlist for his run. He’d been really into more indie songs lately, and songs that lyrics hold a lot of meaning. He ran around campus for a few miles, and watched the scenery fly by as he put one foot in front of the other, running and running to clear his head. He wasn’t too fond over thinking and worrying about his problems and feelings. He just ignored them and usually they went away.

By the time he had looped around the grounds, he was back in front of his dorm with time to spare for a quick shower before class. Zayn was gone at this point. Louis turned the shower on as hot as it could go and watched the water swirl from his head to his back to his legs to his feet and followed it as it ran down the drain.

When the water turned cold he stepped out and changed into fresh clothes. He grabbed his bag and made the daily trek to the lecture hall. Harry and Leo were already in their seats when he got there, as he was actually a bit late to class, like he usually was. He took his seat and started typing the writing assignment for the day from the ‘in-class’ syllabus.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Harry peeking at him every so often. His personality didn’t match his current actions. He didn’t seem like a freshy usually, but at this moment he sure did. Louis just looked at his laptop screen, trying not to notice Harry and his stares. The reflection from the glare on the screen made this very hard to do so. Finally, Louis stopped ignoring it and spoke.

“If you’re going to keep staring at me, at least answer my question. Why did Liam invite me to his party? And why does he hate me?” Harry for once looked down at his own laptop screen.

“Who’s Liam?” he asked shyly.

“You very well know who Liam is. Don’t play dumb.” Louis retorted. Harry looked bewildered.

“I honestly have no clue what you’re talking about,” Harry answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m just gonna go back to typing now.” Harry’s response was not  what Louis was expecting. They didn’t talk anymore that day, as Louis was a little pissed that Harry was acting stupid to confuse Louis, and they did have to focus on their writing anyways.

When it came time for the party, Louis sat on the floor of his closet, surrounded by various pieces of his outfit graveyard. _Nothing_ was looking good on him tonight. He tried on almost everything and it looked like the equivalent of him wearing a garbage bag. Or swaddling himself in blankets to create the illusion of a dress.

He finally settled on a red plaid shirt with tight black jeans. It was basic, but it was the one thing he found that he didn’t look like complete _trash_ in. When he was ready to leave, he found Zayn asleep on the couch in his pajamas, with the invitation to the party ripped all over the floor into small pieces. Zayn liked to give Louis implications of his thoughts without actually telling him. He also didn’t want to be woken up.

So, Louis left and locked the apartment once again with Zayn in it asleep, and headed to the party by himself.

Loud music blaring could be heard from down the street. Lights flashed on and off in a strobe like rhythm and there were crowds of people crowded around the entrance to the building. It was a typical party. Louis walked up to the door and climbed the steps to the seventh floor. The music was deafening at this point, and one would have to yell just to have a conversation. He was handed a red solo cup. People were dancing everywhere, there were people making out in almost every corner. Typical party.

The only big differences between a Liam Payne party and a regular party were the decorations and the liquor. He went all out on themed parties, making elaborate efforts at hanging things from the ceilings and making the atmosphere practically like a high-end club.

Louis drank the liquid in the cup and winced at the strong taste. It burned as it travelled down his throat and put a spark in his veins. Already, he felt better. Thank God for Liam Payne.

After about three more glasses of alcohol, he felt exceedingly wonderful and happy. He spotted Leo in the corner and walked over to him, slipping a bit already in his steps.

“Hiiiiiii Louiiiiis,” Leo said, and smiled, giving him a big hug. “you look hootttt tonight!”

“Dude, are you drunk?” Louis asked. Leo winked and nodded.

“Maybe.” he answered, laughing a bit. Louis downed the rest of his drink. He poured another, making it way stronger than it had been the last few glasses.

“Fuck yes.” Louis said. “It’s been forever!” He took a shot. It wasn’t long before colours seemed brighter and he was in the best mood of his life. Leo was in the corner of the room, staring at the wall, fascinated by it’s flowery wallpaper print. He kept brushing his hands against the design as his eyes widened.

“Dude. It’s, It’s only wallpaper. Chillllllllax.” Louis said, blinking slowly. “At least you’re a happy drunk.”

Leo frowned, his hands brushing over the wall again. “But it’s so pretty.”

“It’s not as pretty as Harrryyy.” Louis giggled quietly.

“You think Harry’s pretty?” Leo asked, gasping a little bit at Louis’ confession.

“Very pretty.” He confirmed with a nod of his head. He looked at Leo.“Are you saying you think he’s not?”  

“Dude,” Leo stuttered, “Dude. You should ask him out.” Leo answered, eyes still fixated on the pink and blue wallpaper. Louis waved him off.

“Nah. You should do it for me.” Louis said, laughing. He looked at the ceiling. “Where is he anyway?”

He got up to go look for Harry, to find him, to maybe ask him out. He was convinced at this point that he had feelings for the young boy, feelings that wouldn’t go away. It had only been two weeks and he already couldn’t get Harry out of his head. He stood up towards the door. He didn’t get too far before a firm hand pushed him away from the door frame.

“No, spend the night here. You’re drunk. Like, my-boyfriend-just-cheated-on-me-and-I’m-drinking-my-feelings drunk. ” the voice belonging to the hand said. Louis didn’t even try to see who had stopped him. He’d had enough for the night. So, he found an empty couch, reclined on it, and passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback would be greatly appreciated. I can't wait to get deeper into the fic with you guys. I already have everything planned out in my head, I just need to get everything into words!


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